Supervert > Quotes

“Only art can make the future love you, and that is what art is about: attraction at a distance, seduction from the past, inveiglement from beyond the grave. Art is a plea to love me when I’m gone. And yet, I thought to myself, who could love what I do? Who could possibly love me for this?”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“God forbid we should both go to heaven. Its endlessness would make us hate each other. Better for you to be in heaven and me in hell. We would long for each other, dream of each other, idealize each other. You would rail against God, since he was keeping you from consummating your love. I would send smoke signals from my pit of brimstone - love letters that smelled like sulfur and made you choke. Maybe we would even try to sneak off to purgatory for illicit rendezvous.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“You can kiss somebody else’s spouse and get away with it. You can kiss a member of the same sex with near impunity. You can give an incestuous kiss on the sly. You can tongue-kiss a dog or exchange raptures with lab rats. But you can’t kiss death without death kissing you back. Death is a passionate kisser.”
― Supervert

“I loved my wounds, not because they hurt but because they were like a gun in my pocket. They gave me a power that no one knew I had.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“What do soy beans and vibrators have in common? They're both meat substitutes.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“I looked at the headline: “The Devil Made Him Do It." It was an opinion piece about the German composer Karlheinz Stockhausen and the “disjointed" but “grotesque" remarks he had made at a press conference. Lamenting the relative impotence of the arts in comparison to terrorism, Stockhausen had called the attacks “the greatest work of art that is possible in the whole cosmos." I guess he thought of it as a Wagnerian spectacle, an opera of airplanes and towers. “Five thousand people are dispatched into eternity, in a single moment," he said. “I couldn’t do that. In comparison with that, we’re nothing as composers.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“I am Death, and when I love you
it’s forever.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“Beauty is relative — right! Do you realize that that, if true, is a veritable abyss?”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“Only art can make the future love you, and that is what art is about: attraction at a distance, seduction from the past, inveiglement from beyond the grave.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“I’m not in the advice business. However, people have been sending increasing
amounts of books / videos / manuscripts / poems / photographs / artworks / long raving emails
describing plans for certain masterpieces. Mostly this is a pleasure, but I would like to take the
opportunity to offer one piece of advice to young artists and writers.

Be disciplined. Be hard on yourself. Remember that you are competing with some of the greatest minds in history. If you are a painter, for example, you are entering into a race where Michelangelo
and Picasso already have leads. Ask yourself if you have done everything you can, everything in
your power, to compete with those guys. It’s not a matter of painting like them or of conceiving of
art like them. You can do your own thing. It’s a matter of pushing yourself, the way they pushed
themselves, to do in art what no one else could do. Why accept anything less of yourself?

Wittgenstein: “What you have achieved cannot mean more to others than it does to you. Whatever
it has cost you, that’s what they’ll pay.”
― Supervert

“If a dying man masturbates, is it necrophilia?”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“Maybe perversion was not illness at all. Maybe every form of deviance was just a potential force of union and community, one that had not yet organized itself into political lobbies, self-help groups, bowling leagues...Once you grant legitimacy to one sexual proclivity, what's to stop the others from demanding their rights too?”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“We are amputees in the realm of sex, and depravity is the prosthetic we use to stagger around the pleasure dome.”
― Supervert

“I thought about Stockhausen. What had prompted him to call the attacks a work of art? For him, I thought, it was not a matter of finding death beautiful, but rather seeing that someone had taken liberties in reality that an artist could only dream of. That was both the virtue and the vice of art. In art, you can kill with impunity—destroy the world, perpetrate a holocaust, whip up the apocalypse. But it’s only art. You can blow up five million people in an opera and not have anywhere near the impact of blowing up five thousand in reality. Stockhausen seemed to realize this, since the terrorism caused him to feel that being a composer was nothing. In that sense, his words were a moral statement about the limits of art, not an immoral statement about aestheticizing destruction.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“Every vagina would be my grave, every clitoris my headstone, and by way of tribute perhaps you could even shave my epitaph into your pubic hair.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“If familiarity breeds contempt, just imagine how familiar you can get with a person after a thousand or a million years. God forbid we should both go to heaven. Its endlessness would make us hate each other. Better for you to be in heaven and me in hell.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“...reclusiveness itself may be a kind of violence. It leaves an abyss for us to throw our fantasies into.”
― Supervert, Post-Depravity

“Art, to me, was a research laboratory,”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“I am Death, and when I love you it’s forever.”
― supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“You would rail against God, since He was keeping you from consummating your love. I would send smoke signals from my pit of brimstone — love letters that smelled like sulfur and made you choke.”
― Supervert, Necrophilia Variations

“Buried within the canon of philosophy are the histories of numerous other philosophies, repressed systems of thought that sometimes emerge like cerebral ghosts to haunt the rational, daylight world of the lumen naturale. Plato’s transmigration of souls, Descartes’ pineal gland, Berkeley’s tar water, Nietzsche’s eternal return—these are the notions that embarrass philosophy, that are
explained away with reference to ignorance of the times or idiosyncrasies of the thinker. But sometimes these cryptophilosophies refuse to go away: they appear again and again, in the work of thinker after thinker, a mass hallucination that occurs not in a crowd in space but in a series over time. Such is the case
of exophilosophy. What is it? Like its peer exobiology, exophilosophy is the
study of life beyond earth—specifically the philosophical study of life beyond earth. In the broadest sense its objects include all theological entities (gods and angels and demons as extraterrestrial life forms) and the thousand other alien figures that populate philosophy: the daemon of Socrates, the Übermensch of
Nietzsche, the Other of phenomenology. Not only advocacy but also the critical analysis of supramundane entities pertains as well, and thus the ghosts scorned by Spinoza and the spiritualists exposed by Schopenhauer also take their rightful place in the history of exophilosophy.”
― Supervert, Extraterrestrial Sex Fetish

“One day I would like to produce a book that would deliberately hurt people. The words would wound their feelings and the object would cut their fingers so that they could not turn a page without bleeding on it. A very small number of people would be willing to take this experience on themselves and I would love them for it.”
― Supervert